


i got a paper cut, duh

by MourningDew



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Angst, Robbery, Violence, but it's p vague, just a lil bit of wound description
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 01:20:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20249800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MourningDew/pseuds/MourningDew
Summary: (after the third book) in which Jacob managed to hide the letters for a little longer and his family relaxedin which Jacob is a VERY different person than before, despite what he tries to conveyin which there's not much Jacob can do to hide scarsor, at last, in which Jacob's family goes on vacation, but they get robbed and Jacob, poor thing, is immediately outed to his parents as a man accustomed to danger.





	i got a paper cut, duh

**Author's Note:**

> it's been forever since i watched the movie, but i just recently read the books- meaning if all you did is watch the movie some stuff might or might not add up, but either way it might not matter? since this is all really just an elaborate excuse to put jacob through hell
> 
> in the pov of jacob's father, franklin, which, by extension, means his mom is referred to as "mary"

Jacob portman was a strange boy. Ever since he was old enough to walk, he was always pants-wettingly terrified of over half the things he encountered, yet within him dwelt this  _ spark-  _ how it got there, Frank had no idea, but he saw it often enough. In the way his son would proudly proclaim "I'm going on an adventure!" Before heading outside, legs shaking even as he went on his way to confront whatever this week's phobia was.

Though Frank would never admit it, he was a little jealous of that spark. In the end, though, he needn't be. It dulled overtime. Jacob went out less, smiled less, and matured.

That's what puberty did to all kids, though, so he wasn't  _ worried _ , per say... He just hoped the little bugger didn't get depressed or something.

Then Jacob lost his grandfather, Frank lost his father, and out of nowhere disaster flooded their family all at once. It was  _ impossible  _ to count the number of gray hairs Jacob's given him ever since he cracked. All Frank did anymore was worry.

During the bad nights- the  _ really  _ bad ones, where Jake woke up thrashing and screaming- he wonders if he actually imagined the spark. Wonders if that was just how all kids acted at that age- full of wonder and curiosity and- well, stupidity.

Then one night, when Frank himself is having problems sleeping, a thought occurred to him: what if that adventurous spirit is what set off Jacob's imagination? What if the spark is the reason Jacob is so messed up?

He doesn't think so, but it doesn't stop him from feeling guilty for being jealous, no matter how many years ago it was.

Time goes on, they go to the island, Frank tries to light his own spark in his birds; things get pretty rough, but it's fine. He's holding on by the seams, but it's fine. At least until Jacob fucking  _ disappears out of nowhere-! _

And from there it's a shit show of confusion and gut-clenching worry. His wife is in hysterics, extended family is torn between sympathy and cringe, and Frank... Can't really process it right now, come back later.

They search, put up pictures, tell the police- they make as huge a fuss as they can. Like if they could just make enough noise, it would call his son home; like a moth to a big, obnoxious flame.

And, finally, they  _ do  _ find him.

~~~

It's been hard, but now it finally feels like they can finally relax a little. Jacob's finally back, miraculously not foaming at the mouth, complete with all four working limbs and, somehow,  _ the spark is back. _ Frank's head spins wondering just  _ what the hell happened out there,  _ but he can risk not knowing if it means his son is here to stay.

So, to bridge the gap that tore up their family, they plan a little vacation. Just a short trip to one of their summer homes where they'll drink fancy drinks, play games, and laugh- no talking about bad things, though. Mary even pulled him and Jacob aside at one point, giving them both a _ look, _ "I don't wanna see either of you boys bringing up anything that doesn't need brought up, okay? We're going to have  _ fun  _ and leave this dreary house behind for awhile." Frank could only hum a little, "Sure, sweetie," while Jacob gave her a thumbs up and that was that.

~~~

They spent the first day unpacking and planning out their next day together, then they all collapsed into their respective beds and cozied in for a long night of jet lag and dust (it really  _ has  _ been awhile since they've used this house).

It's the middle of the night when Frank wakes up with an undignified snort; he's not sure why he's conscious until he felt something cold and hard press against his forehead, effectively freezing him in place like a statue.

Then, through the darkness comes an unfamiliar voice, "Don't try anything and nobody gets hurt. Get out of bed. Slowly."

~~~

Frank tried to stutter a threat ("Don't hurt my family or else!") As he climbed out of bed, but all it took was one sharp look for him to fall into line politely ask them not to kill anyone.  _ He had to be smart and pick his fights, _ he told himself, trying to pretend he hadn't seen the hurt look on Mary's face.

Frank and Mary were forced to kneel in the middle of the posh living room, their hands zip-tied behind their backs. For a moment, he was glad their ankles hadn't gotten the same treatment, but then the apparent leader leaned in close, pressed the gun to Mary's head, and growled "try me." Frank would've given them his social security number if they'd asked.

A minute later, Jacob was shoved down on his other side and given the same zip-tie treatment.

"Now where d'you keep the fucking money in this place?" The head burglar asked.

Frank was trying to form words, but Mary cut over him, her voice shaking, "this is our  _ summer home! _ Everything is in Florida!"

"Cut the shit, you bitch!" The man gestured wildly with his gun, carelessly pointing it in  _ so, so many _ terrible directions, "you're all fucking  _ loaded _ . There's  _ no way _ you didn't bring  _ something." _

"There's nothing- it's all digital," Frank managed after a second.

The thief muttered something like "lying bitch," before ordering his accomplice to go get their travel bags, which were then up-ended onto the floor. After kicking mercilessly through their belongings and confirming the significant lack of money, the man seemed a little more unsure. "...Search the place. You," he jabbed a finger at the biggest masked man, "do this room and keep a  _ damn  _ eye on them. No fucking funny business."

The men scattered- four of them, Frank finally managed to note. The frequent crashes and thuds throughout the rest of the house sounded expensive; every once in awhile, he felt vibrations through the floor.

He scooted on his knees a little closer to Mary, "you okay, hon?"

She gave a stiff nod and sniffled, "they're so horrible. What did we ever do to them? Is it a crime to have money? I hate this, Frank," she whispered.

"I know, I know... Me too. I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to her head, but ended up flinching away at a particularly loud crash. Now he shifted toward Jacob, trying to catch his gaze, but the boy's eyes were locked on the robber. "...Jake? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah... M'alright."

Frank leaned in a little closer until their sides touched. He'd just been trying to show his support, but ended up a little dumbfounded; Jacob wasn't trembling in the slightest- which was great, of course, but with armed, angry robbers currently tearing their vacation home apart, he'd figured a little fear was warranted. Especially from Jacob portman, the boy who would shake and hyperventilate at the slightest thing since diapers.

...Did Jake finally crack? Was this, dare he say it, "new and improved" son really just a facade? When he finally  _ did  _ catch his eye, he was shocked by how sharp they were. How downright  _ clear _ they were, down to the-

Both Frank and Jacob flinched hard when a precious china plate shattered apart just inches from their knees. "No conspiring!" The bandit snapped, glaring as Frank scrambled to put some space between him and Jake.

Before he could return to his search, Jacob, damn him, spoke up, "you know, we won't call the police if you let us go. Actually- we  _ can't _ . Not with your ski masks and gloves. We've got nothing on you. So if you leave now, it's all-"

"You think I don't know what a street camera is,  _ boy?" _

There was a heavy bout of silence before the burglar stalked off, kicking the wall.

By now, Mary was shivering with silent tears and Frank could feel his heart thudding in his chest, his hands and head tingling strangely. It was oddly hard to breathe.

Movement at his side caught his eye and he saw Jacob, concentration clear in his tense shoulders- dammit, he was planning something, wasn't he?

"Whatever you're about to do, don't. This isn't some game you can afford to lose!" Frank snapped at him a little too loudly, but the burglars were getting a little loud with their search anyway; desperation made them sloppy.

Jacob, to his horror, completely ignored him, leaning back until his hands supported him; he then put his foot over a shard of china, and in one smooth movement, slid it under and behind him until he held it in his hands.

Frank was torn between being impressed, angry, and extremely confused. Where the hell did Jake- bumbling and clumsy  _ Jake-  _ learn to do  _ that? _

Finally, the apparent leader was back and he was  _ fuming. _ "The hell is going on!? Where's the fucking  _ valuables? _

"We don't have any-  _ please _ just believe us," Frank tried, but alas...

"Don't fuck with me!" The man kicked Frank in the stomach; all the air shot out of him in a pained cough as he fell to his back.

_ "Hey!" _ Jacob snaps immediately and dad wants to laugh and cry because " _ the hell is he thinking"  _ and  _ "where is this coming from!?" _

And then Jacob gets a kick, too, just for good measure.

He falls back, but doesn't make a sound. Maybe that pissed the man off, because then he was taking the time to drive his heel repeatedly into Jacob's gut until the boy was writhing.

"Please-  _ please, stop-" _

"Jake, honey- oh god-" Frank and Mary gasped out at the same time until the burglar finally backed off with a frustrated growl.

"I'm not fucking leaving without  _ something." _

Frank waited until everyone went back to their tasks before leaning over Jacob. "Hey, hey... Jake, are you okay? Can you hear me? Can you breathe?"

"I'm-"  _ cough,  _ "fine, I'm fine, it's okay"

"No, it's hardly okay, it's-..."

Franks jaw dropped when Jacob sat up and pulled his zip-tie-free wrists in front of him. His hands were bloody, his wrists were bruised, but he was officially free.

"How did you- how did you do that!?" Mary asked, seemingly dumbfounded as well.

Jacob just shushed them both, slit Frank's zip-tie, handed him the china shard, then stood.

"Jake- Jacob Portman don't you  _ dare  _ try anything," he hissed under his breath, but all he got for his troubles was a mumbled reassurance before the boy was off.

Jacob went soundlessly to the man guarding them, lifted the leg of a broken table high over his head, (Frank stopped comprehending the world for a second) and swung it down on the poor man's head,  _ breaking _ the table leg.

The man crumpled to the floor in a heap, blood welling up on his head

Jacob immediately dropped down and pressed his fingers to the burglar's neck, sighed in relief, and stood.

Frank tried to find the breath to call him back, but the words wouldn't come. Then Jacob was crouching in front of them, ordering him to free Mary and then find weapons for self-defense. Before Frank could argue, Jake was off.

He fumbled for awhile- long enough that Mary had to kick at him and get him back in gear. The second they were both standing, though, Frank pitched forward and came close to kissing the floor. Was he kicked with a steel toed boot or  _ what? _ And now that he thought about it,  _ how the hell was Jacob even  _ functioning _ right now!? _

With bigger problems on hand, Frank grabbed a sturdy looking pole from the wreckage- maybe from a lamp, he wasn't sure and it didn't matter. Mary grabbed some jagged looking scrap of wood, and Frank had a moment of fear as he wondered if he would end up watching his wife stab someone.

They got into an awkward crouch and waited. His heart was pounding and his mind seemed to endlessly generate human shapes out of the deep shadows.

After a few long, tense minutes, Mary glanced uncertainly at him, "does it seem quieter to you?"

"...No?"

After another few minutes, though, he confirmed it to her. The constant smash-and-clatter of the money search was slowly dropping away, one burglar at a time.

Frank has  _ no clue _ what's come over that boy, but he prays it doesn't end yet. Not until they can all get far, far away from this cursed house and into the biggest hospital they can find.

His thoughts are a constant stream of 

_ Please don't get hurt  _

_ Where did he get the muscles to swing like that  _

_ Please come home safe  _

_ When did he learn to move so quiet  _

_ I don't care about anything else, just don't die on me  _

_ Did he always have such a strong pain tolerance?  _

_ I already lost you once, don't make me lose you again _

A loud shout broke through his mental panicking and he quickly recognized the sound of a fight. Frank's entire body went taught with tension, totally still despite the obvious signs of danger.

"Come on," Mary hissed at him, "we have to-"

Then he heard the distinct sound of Jacob crying out in pain, and she didn’t finish before he was out of the room and tracking the sounds of the scuffle like a homing pigeon.

When he finally found them, the man's hands were around his son's throat.

Frank lunged forward and slammed his pole into the burglar's head with reckless abandon. The man hit the floor while Jacob staggered back to lean against a counter.

"What the hell were you thinking, Jake!?" Frank demanded at once.

"I was just-"

"You could've gotten killed, or worse!"

"I know, i-"

"These people had  _ guns!" _ It seemed Jacob finally realized the size of the rant Frank had brewing, because he didn't interrupt again. "Every single one had a gun and every single one was a big, angry, unpredictable man! They trashed our house, what do you think they would do to you!?" He made a desperate gesture with the pole, finally realizing that it was, indeed, the pole from a lamp, seeing as it bent so easily. Spotting the blood on it suddenly had him paling, subdued, the fight draining out of him and leaving him all too cold.

"Frank,  _ please," _ Mary suddenly cut in, "call the police already! This  _ entire _ ordeal was absolutely  _ horrid  _ and I can't wait another second!"

"Right..." Then he's on the phone, surrounded by bodies that are a little too still for his liking, and his son Jacob...

He looks exhausted, just propped hazardously against the counter, calmly batting away all his mother's concerns. "Oh, honey, are you hurt?" 

"I'm fine, Mom." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah-" 

"Your neck is bruised!" 

"It doesn't hurt that bad-" 

"We should call a doctor" 

"I said it was fine." 

"But I saw them kick you." 

"It wasn't that hard."

Frank finally cut in, the police on their way. "I got kicked and it felt like a meteorite. What the hell do you mean "it wasn't that hard?"

"It just... wasn't," Jacob said hesitantly, which made Frank squint at him, "I mean it hurt like a bitch, but it's nothing I can't handle"

"Show me your stomach," he ordered.

When it was obvious that he wasn't about to budge, Jacob sighed and lifted his tank top, shirt, hoodie combo (honestly, why did teenagers wear so many damn shirts?), Revealing a dark, ugly looking bruise.

Mary gasped and immediately started fussing. Frank barely tore himself away long enough to flip the kitchen light on, drowning them all in artificial light. It looked even worse once his eyes adjusted; the skin various unnatural shades that made him want to puke, seeing them on Jacob.

Before Frank could spiral, though, something caught his eye and he was leaning into Jake's personal space, looking at scars. Lots of them- all interwoven and crossing over each other; they weren't that big, but damn, there were a lot.

This means something  _ did  _ happen in the time Jacob had disappeared. Was he kidnapped? Was he locked away and tortured for weeks? Why didn't he say anything, then!? Was it- oh god, please, no- was it Stockholm syndrome!?! And now Jacob was defending his kidnapper!?

Ohhhh no- he was definitely gonna be sick.

Frank devolved into a bit of a mess. "Jacob, where the hell did you get those scars?"

"Scars?" Mary zoned in on him "What scars? What's this about scars, Jake?"

"Oh, um..." Jacob went to lower his shirts, but Mary grabbed him by the wrist and pulled them up even higher, getting a better look and revealing even more of the sickening white lines. "Well, when I was... Y'know, out on the streets of London and stuff, it got kinda rough for a bit. Not all the people were all that great. But I'm fine now! I mean, c'mon. They healed fine, I think."

Frank was still suspicious. He gripped a fistful of all three shirts at once and hiked them all up to Jacob's chin, who muttered an uncomfortable, "seriously, dad?" But didn't fight it.

Mary fretted and pointed out different ones, asking about a few. "So there was this drunk guy..." Jacob had began before Frank cut him off.

"Where the  _ hell  _ did you get this one?" He demanded, pushing Jacob's arm out of the way to point at a jagged scar that hadn't healed quite right- the worst one by far. Then Mary was pointing out a similar one on his other side and Frank was seriously at a loss. It looked like some giant clawed thing had gripped Jake by his sides and just gone to town. Or more realistically (somehow) like a tiger bit him, teeth wrapped tight around his torso.

"Like I said, there weren't the greatest people on the streets of London."

Frank had his doubts, and from the silence, so did Mary. "Jake, be honest..." He started, watching his son already tense up, "are these self inflicted?"

Mary gasped, covering her mouth, "oh, Jacob..." At the same time Jacob was huffing a bit of forced laughter.

"No. Hell no. You know how much I hate pain and how would I even manage something like this?"

"You tell me," Frank muttered.

Jacob seemed to deflate at those words, hurt flashing across his face before he was pushing their hands off and his shirts down. Still, he launched into a story readily enough, about some strange and vague group of people in a strange and vague place that didn't like him roaming around on what they claimed was theirs.

Frank was contemplating some sort of gang thing that Jake got caught up in, but it was all so damn  _ vague  _ that he couldn't be sure. Was this why Jake was so good at being so quiet? Why he was able to take down four men with nothing but scraps? Had his son actually been fighting for his  _ life  _ out there!?

And  _ why the hell was it _ that whenever Jake answered even a  _ single damn question _ , it always, without fail, left him with  _ more questions! _

He never really got the time to share his anxieties until Jacob was wrapping up his story in a neat, convenient little bow and prodding them to help him gather the men, just in case they woke up.

Frank (reluctantly) and Jacob (relievedly) went around carrying each of them into the bathroom until Mary brought a chair up to the door, wedging it under the handle, leaving them trapped.

They were just finishing up when the police showed up, guns tucked  _ safely  _ in their holsters as they asked for a quick and immediate update on the situation.

From there, Frank got swept up in reporting everything and there was no more time for speculation.

~~~

Lying in bed that night, at their last-minute hotel, he had to wonder; just what kind of horrors had Jacob even been through out there?

Finally giving up on his own sleep, Frank got up. He ventured into the kitchen for a glass of water, but paused when he saw the door to the room Jacob claimed was cracked. That  _ never  _ happened- Jacob had gone insanely, obsessively private ever since his grandfather died.

Frank shrugged, shuffling over, deciding he would just close it for him, when he froze at the sound of quiet muttering and harsh breathing.

He peeked his head in, finding Jacob on the bed just as he'd hoped, except he was crying. Crying in his sleep, Frank deduced after a pained minute of watching from a wary distance.

This was worse, somehow, than having him wake up screaming every night. Watching felt like intruding on something private, though for the life of him he didn't know why.  So, Frank gathered up his tattered courage and went to the bed, gently shaking Jacob awake.

The poor boy was far too quick to flinch with a stifled gasp, panicked eyes honing in on Frank.

"You good?" He asked after a second.

"Yeah, yeah... Sorry. Just had a little nightmare." Jacob muttered, seemingly on automatic.

"Didn't seem like the usual kind."

"...Guess not."

They hadn't had one of these talks in years, where Frank would just be a father to him and Jacob would beg to be comforted. What happened? Work, puberty, and death, he supposed. ...It's such a damn shame they don't do that anymore. All he does is worry about his son, but it never gets him anywhere. "Listen, Jake..." Frank started on a whim, "I don't know what happened out there, and you obviously don't seem inclined to tell me. Maybe it was just that bad or maybe you think you'll be punished for something, but... Well. If you ever  _ do  _ want to talk about it, even just a little, I hear I make a pretty good listener."

Jacob nodded slowly, not meeting his eyes, "Thanks, dad. I'll think about it."

For some reason, his heart constricted. It felt like he was light years away from his son, even though they were two feet apart.

**Author's Note:**

> the scars on his sides would be from when the huge hollow bit him, if you didn't get that  
if there's any left over mistakes, make sure to let me know. thanks, y'all


End file.
